


Blue Hydrangea

by bearmitage



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:38:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearmitage/pseuds/bearmitage
Summary: Colin rarely buys a flower except when he has a date.





	

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by FBWeekly prompt: Flowers on twitter https://twitter.com/_FBweekly/status/830416801213190144

Colin _didn’t_ buy flowers.

 

 

Well, not really. He would rather say that he rarely bought a flower, it’s not his style. But dating was a major exception.

 

 

He had a date, very important one.

 

 

And it would not be nice if he’s late, he should have hated to keep his date waiting. He knew that Ezra wouldn’t complain, he never complained anyway. But keeping someone waiting was not a good idea.

 

 

Colin grabbed his wallet and smiled at the florist before reaching to the bouquet of blue hydrangea, the flower that represented Ezra and him perfectly.

 

 

_Ezra was blue._

 

 

He was many shades of blue, sometimes he’s the lightest one like a bright day without any clouds while the other day he would be the darkest one just like the day with a severe storm. So blue like the pills he occasionally took, so bright like a cloudless sky.

 

 

He loved sitting with Ezra on the couch and let the younger boy saying things he always needed to Google after their conversation (you know, the age gap) about drum and his album and the film and the opera and watched him love himself. Brushing his hair and tangling their feet, Colin loved seeing Ezra’s eyes burn wild with passion whenever he spoke. Ezra spoke rapidly, many times tripping over his own word and struggling meet his brain. That’s how the artist thought (or it’s because a pot). They both tripped over each other’s words like a rain filling the crack on the footpath and said ‘ _us_ ’ countless times like it meant an Amen. Smelling the scent of him was his favourite thing, the mixture of Melvius blueberry, perfume and his skin, and his bedroom smelled just like him.

 

 

Ezra always knew when the thing he did meant for him and he would just let it flow and Colin just kept doing that because he too enjoyed watching Ezra saturated by his love. What he never knew was he himself was tearing through every page in the cobalt ink, slowly and eventually.

 

 

_Hydrangea represented Colin._

 

 

The meaning behind this flower is not as well-known as the others. And he’s sure that the boy would love this flower, roses, and lilies were too basic for him. Symbolizing the deep heartfelt emotion, Hydrangea represented his feeling towards him.

 

 

His world used to be colourless. Everything was gray, his heart, his smoke, his dream. The collapse of his marriages and everything made him so devoid of colours and he knew what it meant. The smoke he let out was growing in the air and he started seeing thing in colours when Ezra stepping in, changing it into the chaos of colours, making him realize how much he craved for this. The emotion was growing harshly and unstoppable, this was why he chose Hydrangea.

 

 

Leaving the flower shop, he glanced at his watch on the wrist and walked towards his car, adjusting his suit to be in the proper place. Not a single crease was seen on his shirt. He chose this time because it wouldn’t be so crowded, he wanted to make it private and special.

 

 

 _Oh! You Pretty Things,_ Ezra’s favourite song, was playing in his car’s radio and Colin kept humming while the evening wind was passing and blowing through his face due to the fifty mph. Undoubtedly, it reminded him of his boy.

 

 

_Exquisite, messed up, ecstatic, vigorous, reckless and youthful_

 

 

Ezra would tap the fingers on his tattoo lightly like a spider legs, placing his chin on his bare chest and staring at him. Getting high of cannabis, the boy would smile widely like it could shatter his cheekbones. Colin always joked that he wished Ezra would make it until the day he’s twenty-eight years old and the boy would laugh manically. His laugh was so addictive that Colin became unaware that he would die without it.

 

 

Glancing over the console, the pack of cigarettes was lying. It belonged to Ezra. He quit smoking a long times ago, writing the breakup letter before tossing the last pack to the bin without a hesitation. There was one day when Jack arrived home after school, asking him if he could quit smoking. ‘ _ **It’s going to kill you. Papa**_ _._ ’ was what the boy said. It’s so difficult to quit doing something but he succeeded, nonetheless, _Ezra was a major exception_ as well. Ezra was the addiction that he would never be able to quit.

 

 

Sweating and getting nervous, his palms were wet when he pulled the steering wheel. Colin glanced at the Blue Hydrangea and repeated what he was going to say with another boy once again before getting out of his car and walked towards Ezra.

 

 

_He’s there._

 

 

Colin coughed, “Ezra,” he looked at the boy, smiling. “You smell like freshly earth after the rain, the warm baked bread, the scent of the snow from the northern wind. You taste like a powdered sugar, sweet and soft. Like a cup of breakfast tea that makes me want to wake up in every morning.”

 

 

He inhaled deeply, gathering his bravery before continuing. “Loving you is painting my colourless world and engulfing me with your overflowing endless constellation of colours. Like a work of art, and,” Colin licked his lips, “Damn, it’s so beautiful.”

 

 

Colin smiled. “ _Thanks for painting my world, Ezra._ ”

 

 

He looked at the flowers in his hands before placing the bouquet of Blue Hydrangeas in front of him.

 

 

The blue funeral flowers looked pretty on the boy’s gray gravestone.

 

 

 

 

_Ezra couldn’t make it until the day he’s twenty-eighth years old._

 

 

 _Ezra_ _was his dear paradox. A constant weakness of his. A strength of ever present and past. He was there to make him become who he was. He made him love himself and painted his world in the chaos of colours in the way that no one else could._

 

 

_And suddenly, he took all of those colours with him._

 

 

 

**Colin led the cigarette.**

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to everyone who is suffering from the loss. You're not alone.


End file.
